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rec502006-06-06 09:00 am
byslantedlight.livejournal.com) wrote in rec502006-06-06 09:00 am
Entry tags:
Voice-over
My Table
Claim: The Professionals – Bodie/Doyle
Title: Voice-over
Author: Elizabeth O’Shea
Characters: Bodie, Doyle
Prompt: First Time
Rating: NC-17
Length: Long
Brief summary: Bodie is in a coma, and Doyle of course is instructed to talk to him. Running out of things to say, he begins to reminisce about their first time. There is something magic about this story – and it’s all the more touching because it’s funny. Beautifully written, perfectly "the lads" and completely heart-wrenching in a hundred different ways. Classic Prosfic.
It wasn't till all that glorious heat finally sank through to my bones and thawed me out enough to start me shivering again that I realised how near frozen I'd been. Might as well make the most of it then. I propped my bum on the radiator, tucked my hands into my armpits and clamped my teeth together to keep them from chattering while I settled down to ogle you and toast away the last of the chill. Too late. Forgot the Old Man's not the only one with ears like a hawk, didn't I?
"Doyle?" you called over your shoulder. "Has this place got deathwatch beetle or..." You turned round and shook your head in that nannyish way of yours. "It is, isn't it? It's you making that racket! You can't still be cold. Here," you reached out and pulled me into your side, rubbing briskly up and down my arm, "how's that?"
"Like being mauled by King Kong. Get off, will you." I shrugged my jacket straight, and wondered irritably why you always had to go and spoil the mood. Felt like my arm was coming off. Bloody bull in a china shop.
You snatched your hand away. "I was only trying to get you warmed up."
I tell you I didn't give much for our chances if wrenching my arm out of its socket was the best you could come up with. No idea of subtlety, you army types.
"That something they teach you in the SAS then is it? How to start a fire by rubbing two CI5 agents together?"
My mouth, as usual, was sounding off a step or two ahead of my brain, and there was a crowded little silence while my imagination caught up and showed me some inspirational pictures to go with the thought. Maybe the mood hadn't disappeared completely after all. I made a heroic effort to keep a straight face.
"Teach you to wear a decent coat, won't it?" you said, pretending not to notice.
I looked down, indignant. "Nothing indecent about this coat."
"No, only what's underneath it." You took a slow step forward, eyes locked with mine, and my heart gave a lurch and started up again in overdrive. "These buttons do go all the way to the top you know." You flicked at the open neck of my shirt and I shivered again, coming up all over goosepimples as your knuckles brushed my throat.
Link to the story:
Voice-over
Claim: The Professionals – Bodie/Doyle
Title: Voice-over
Author: Elizabeth O’Shea
Characters: Bodie, Doyle
Prompt: First Time
Rating: NC-17
Length: Long
Brief summary: Bodie is in a coma, and Doyle of course is instructed to talk to him. Running out of things to say, he begins to reminisce about their first time. There is something magic about this story – and it’s all the more touching because it’s funny. Beautifully written, perfectly "the lads" and completely heart-wrenching in a hundred different ways. Classic Prosfic.
It wasn't till all that glorious heat finally sank through to my bones and thawed me out enough to start me shivering again that I realised how near frozen I'd been. Might as well make the most of it then. I propped my bum on the radiator, tucked my hands into my armpits and clamped my teeth together to keep them from chattering while I settled down to ogle you and toast away the last of the chill. Too late. Forgot the Old Man's not the only one with ears like a hawk, didn't I?
"Doyle?" you called over your shoulder. "Has this place got deathwatch beetle or..." You turned round and shook your head in that nannyish way of yours. "It is, isn't it? It's you making that racket! You can't still be cold. Here," you reached out and pulled me into your side, rubbing briskly up and down my arm, "how's that?"
"Like being mauled by King Kong. Get off, will you." I shrugged my jacket straight, and wondered irritably why you always had to go and spoil the mood. Felt like my arm was coming off. Bloody bull in a china shop.
You snatched your hand away. "I was only trying to get you warmed up."
I tell you I didn't give much for our chances if wrenching my arm out of its socket was the best you could come up with. No idea of subtlety, you army types.
"That something they teach you in the SAS then is it? How to start a fire by rubbing two CI5 agents together?"
My mouth, as usual, was sounding off a step or two ahead of my brain, and there was a crowded little silence while my imagination caught up and showed me some inspirational pictures to go with the thought. Maybe the mood hadn't disappeared completely after all. I made a heroic effort to keep a straight face.
"Teach you to wear a decent coat, won't it?" you said, pretending not to notice.
I looked down, indignant. "Nothing indecent about this coat."
"No, only what's underneath it." You took a slow step forward, eyes locked with mine, and my heart gave a lurch and started up again in overdrive. "These buttons do go all the way to the top you know." You flicked at the open neck of my shirt and I shivered again, coming up all over goosepimples as your knuckles brushed my throat.
Link to the story:
Voice-over